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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931252">Billing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisMomoness/pseuds/HisMomoness'>HisMomoness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Sokka (Avatar), Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:20:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisMomoness/pseuds/HisMomoness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been four months since Sokka saw—and met—Zuko. And now he’s coming to stay for a week. </p><p>Maybe this was a mistake, inviting him here. They’ve spent twenty-two hours together, total, ever. What if the memory is better than the reality, as it so often is?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>289</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Billing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A semi-sequel to An Improbability, but plot is an illusion so can be read alone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sokka’s almost never nervous, but he’s sure as shit sweating in his boots right now. </p><p>It’s been four months since he saw—and met—Zuko. And now he’s coming to stay for a week. </p><p>Maybe this was a mistake, inviting him here. They’ve spent twenty-two hours together, total, ever. </p><p>Sure, it was the best twenty-two hours of Sokka’s life. And sure, they’ve texted or talked on the phone nearly every day since then. Sokka <em> feels </em>like he knows Zuko, better than he has any right to after a single day together, but he’s nervous. What if he’s put him on a pedestal? What if the memory is better than the reality, as it so often is?</p><p>He was supposed to be here hours ago, but Zuko had insisted on driving, despite Sokka’s offers to buy him a plane ticket and pick him up. Who knows why he’d refused every time. </p><p>Well, Sokka knows it’s because Zuko’s quietly proud and stubborn as hell. It’s still annoying. </p><p>Oh <em> god. </em>What if he died on the road? Missed a curve and flew off the side, or got lost and froze because he ran out of gas? It’s a long ass drive and Sokka knows Zuko doesn’t sleep enough. Maybe he should have pushed harder about the plane ticket. </p><p>He’s about to break down and call Zuko when Sokka hears the crunch of gravel outside his house. He flies off his couch, crashes out the door and waits at the bottom of his rotting steps as Zuko’s car pulls to a stop beside his own. </p><p>It’s a small eternity before Zuko steps out of the car. Sokka holds his breath.</p><p>He lets it out and offers a wide smile when Zuko stands and his golden eyes meet Sokka’s. He’s <em>gorgeous</em>—Sokka had nearly forgotten just how stunning he was. Memory doesn't hold a candle to this reality. </p><p>Zuko raises a hand in a small wave. “Hey.”</p><p>“Hey,” Sokka all but whispers, relief and longing painfully evident in his voice.</p><p>Zuko glances away. Shit. Is it awkward now? Already? Sokka doesn’t know what to do. He steps forward. “Here, let me get your bag.”</p><p>Zuko opens the back door and grabs a black duffle bag from the seat. “I’ve got it.”</p><p>Sokka shakes his head and takes it from him. “Let’s get inside,” he says, starting back into the house before Zuko can protest. “How was the drive?”</p><p>“Fine. I only got a little lost. Sorry I’m late.”</p><p>Sokka chuckles. “I’m just happy you made it in one piece.”</p><p>There’s a pause when Sokka gets through the door. He only has one bedroom. Zuko’s definitely not sleeping on the couch, right? That’s not what’s happening here. At least, Sokka sure hopes not.  </p><p>He brings the bag to his room and dumps it on the bed before going back to meet Zuko. He hasn’t moved from the door, but at least his boots are off. Sokka smiles at him again, stopping close. </p><p>“Hey,” he says, quietly. Zuko’s lips tip up in a small smile, and his eyes flick to Sokka. </p><p>Sokka startles as cool fingers touch, ever so lightly, to the back of his hand. His breath catches as Zuko’s hands trace up his arms, barely skimming the fabric of his sweater. He takes a step in and gently loops his arms around Sokka’s shoulders, watching his face as if asking for permission.</p><p>God, Zuko doesn’t need to ask Sokka for anything. He can have it all. </p><p>Sokka leans in to press them flush and brings his arms around Zuko to hold tight. He’s cold—nothing new there—but he feels <em> right </em>against Sokka. </p><p>There’s an instant of self-consciousness, where Zuko is stiff and unyielding and Sokka thinks he might have done something wrong, fucked up the hug somehow, as if that’s a thing that can be done—then the tension snaps, and Zuko positively <em> melts </em>into it. He tucks his head into the crook of Sokka’s shoulder, a cold nose tip nuzzling into his neck. Strong arms squeeze around the back of Sokka’s neck, a grounding pressure.</p><p>Sokka pulls him impossibly closer and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of spiced shampoo and Zuko. Sokka’s not sure when the last time he hugged somebody was. Other than his elderly neighbour’s frail embrace when Sokka drops off groceries, it’s not often he gets physical affection out here. Sokka’s a tactile guy but he hadn’t realized just how much he was missing touch until Zuko hugged him.</p><p>He slides his hands up to frame the sides of Zuko’s face and tug it away from his neck. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he says, before catching Zuko’s lips with his own. </p><p>Zuko makes a startled little gasp into his mouth but he doesn’t hesitate to return the kiss, chapped lips moving against Sokka’s. It’s unhurried, and Sokka’s not looking for anything more than this right now, but damn if that kiss doesn’t carry the weight of a promise. </p><p>After a few long, delicious, head-spinning moments, Sokka pulls away. Zuko’s eyes are already a little glazed over, his cheeks tinged with pink. Sokka wants to catch his bottom lip again and bite it. He settles instead for peppering small kisses all over Zuko’s face, across his cheeks and finally on the tip of his frigid nose. </p><p>“I can’t believe I’m here, either,” Zuko says. Sokka can tell. Zuko’s hardly been touched and he looks half out of his mind and like he’s trying to figure out where the trick is.</p><p>“Better get on board, babe. You’re stuck with me for a whole week,” Sokka grins.</p><p>“Good thing I have my car. I can leave when you start to annoy me.”</p><p>“Not if I hide your battery.”</p><p>“You’d keep me wrongfully imprisoned?”</p><p>“If it means having you around longer,” Sokka says, then tips forward for another kiss, significantly less chaste than the first, “Hell yes I would.”</p><p>Zuko rolls his eyes but smiles lightly. “Why don’t you be a good host and we’ll see where it goes.”</p><p>“I can be an amazing host. I even bought green things for you to eat.”</p><p>Zuko laughs, his chest rumbling under Sokka’s hands. It’s <em>so much better </em> than over the phone that for a second all Sokka can do is marvel at his own good fortune. </p><p>“You’re a true gentleman,” Zuko says.</p><p>Sokka can’t resist. “For now,” he says, and nips Zuko’s lower lip before stepping back. Zuko flushes, the way Sokka hoped he would. “So, what did you want to get up to while you’re here? I’m assuming no water-based activities and it’s too cold for that anyways, but we can head into the city if you like.”</p><p>“Oh, um. Whatever you want.”</p><p>And <em> there </em> it is. Sokka drags Zuko to the couch by the hand, waits until they’ve both sat down and arranges them so Zuko’s legs are across his lap. He kneads into his calves a little, gently, until the pinched look leaves Zuko’s face, then says, “Okay. We talked about this before you left. You’re gonna let me know what <em> you </em>want to do, because I live here and have more opportunities. Also, I want to see you happy. If you suggest something heinous, which seems pretty fucking unlikely, I’ll let you know. Okay? So I’m asking again. What do you want to do?”</p><p>Zuko searches Sokka’s face for a long moment. Sokka has to resist the urge to sigh from sheer exasperation. He keeps up his leg massage, trying to draw out the tension that’s sprung back into the muscles under his hands. </p><p>Finally, Zuko says, “There’s a, uh, museum that looks interesting. And a gallery. But only if we have time.”</p><p>Sokka smiles. “Of course we have time. Anything else?”</p><p>Zuko’s brow unfurrows slightly, his eyes brightening a bit. “Can we try snowshoeing? I’ve never done it before.”</p><p>Sokka groans a little, playfully, with a wide smile to make sure Zuko doesn’t get silly and misinterpret it. “Get ready for the worst calf burn of your life,” he says. </p><p>“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Zuko says quickly.</p><p>“Sweetheart, I want to. Can you relax, for me? We’re going to have a great time no matter what. I’m just happy to <em> see </em>you. If you wanted to stay in this house for a week, I’d be thrilled to oblige.”</p><p>Finally, something breaks through. Zuko grins and covers one of Sokka’s hands with his own. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He adds, “I’ll be even happier when we cook some of those green things. I’m starving.”</p><p>Sokka ultimately watches while Zuko cooks the green things, and most of everything else, because Sokka’s happy to splurge on fancy ingredients but can’t be bothered to figure out what to do with them. </p><p>By the time he’s got a delicious meal in his belly and an armful of cuddly Zuko on the couch while a movie plays, Sokka is pretty sure he’s in for the best one hundred and sixty-eight hours of his life. </p><hr/><p>Sokka blinks awake, slowly, regretfully. Zuko’s up already, disgusting morning person that he is, and dragging on thick socks as he sits on the side of the bed. He’s completely dressed, much to Sokka’s despair.</p><p>“Going somewhere?” Sokka murmurs. </p><p>Zuko turns and smiles, then leans over to kiss him lightly. A palm brushes Sokka’s hair away from his forehead, and his insides turn to a molten liquid that he decides is probably going to kill him.</p><p>Worth it. </p><p>“Just getting breakfast ready before we leave,” Zuko says as he pulls away. </p><p>Sokka catches him around the waist and tugs him back into bed. Zuko huffs as he hits the mattress and rolls into Sokka, but he doesn’t resist as he gets reeled in for another kiss. “Breakfast later,” Sokka says against his mouth.</p><p>Zuko hums with what Sokka chooses to interpret as agreement. Sokka slots their mouths together properly, morning breath be damned, and slides his hands down to settle on Zuko’s hips. Zuko makes a little squeak into the kiss, surprised but not unhappy as Sokka runs his fingertips under the hem of his shirt to feel the smoothness of the skin there. Sokka grins and makes to roll so Zuko is pulled on top of him. Zuko comes easily, one leg slung over Sokka’s thigh as the kiss deepens, and Sokka feels his own sleep shirt being tugged up. He lifts his arms to allow it to be pulled off, enjoying the view of Zuko’s confident smirk as he slides it up the shirt, hands skimming Sokka’s ribs. It almost tickles, but Sokka can’t help but smile wider. </p><p>In an instant of undeniable proof of his latent ninja skills, Zuko flips the shirt hem over Sokka’s face and tucks it behind his head. Sokka sputters and lets out an undignified squeak. Zuko’s weight rolls off the bed just as Sokka manages to disentangle himself from his shirt, and he lifts his head only to be knocked back by a pillow to the face. </p><p>He groans at Zuko’s laugh, drifting in from the hall. “You’re not exactly appealing to my better nature right now,” he calls. Zuko only laughs again, poking his head into the open doorway. His eyes are bright and open. Sokka has to work to keep a scowl on his face. His cheeks ache with the effort.</p><p>“You said we have time for everything,” Zuko reminds him with entirely too much glee. “Right now, it’s time for breakfast and museums.”</p><p>Sokka half-heartedly hurls the pillow at Zuko, missing by a wide margin as he ducks back into the hall. Sokka flops back with another grumble, urging down the thrum of arousal low in his belly. They have time. One hundred and fifty-two hours by his estimate, give or take. He smiles.</p><hr/><p>Within the hour, Sokka has been shuffled into the bathroom to shower, thoroughly caffeinated, and complained about the too-healthy meal he was served. Zuko had raised a brow at the running commentary about the wrongness of vegetable consumption before noon and the lack of meat on his plate. As he soaks the dishes, Sokka breaks down and grudgingly admits it was pretty good in spite of the missing protein.</p><p>“Eggs are protein, Sokka,” Zuko says. </p><p>“Maybe I just need more than the average person.” Sokka grins and pops a pose that he figures will show off his arms. </p><p>Zuko remains unmoved. “Actually, there’s significant confusion around how much protein the average person truly needs in their diet.”</p><p>Leave it to Zuko to even <em> know </em>that. Sokka raises his hands in capitulation. “I guess I could do with more veggies. At what age does one need to be concerned about high cholesterol?”</p><p>Zuko rolls his eyes, but Sokka swears it’s rooted firmly in fond exasperation. “In your case? Five years ago. Now get in the car.”</p><p>Sokka laughs and moves to pull on his boots and jacket. Zuko speeds ahead, already warming up his car in the drive as Sokka locks up. </p><p>Sokka drives them into the city. He listens intently as Zuko recounts all the details that don’t always come through over the phone, the random stories about Iroh and the daily grind at work. Dealing with customers and suppliers, the fire drill fiasco in his condo building, the fundraiser for the local shelter and how his uncle had to tear Zuko away from the adopt-a-thon. It’s mundane and domestic and routine, and Sokka is riveted. He’s never been bored talking to Zuko. The guy can oscillate between being a grumpy asshole and a skittish stray in the space of a few minutes, but Sokka can deal with that. This is what’s really there, underneath the anxiety and doubt and goddamn Olympic-level emotional repression—a softness that Sokka wants to wrap around himself and never take off. </p><p>They stop at a cafe to grab coffees—some kind of tea latte for Zuko, in an order that Sokka tries to commit to memory but is sure he’ll forget immediately—and hit the museum first. It’s a quiet day in the city, despite the encroaching holidays. Sokka figures it’s on account of the day being so grey and chill, and the fact that it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday. Seasonal work means he’s free for much of the winter, other than odd jobs when he can find them, and Zuko’s taking advantage of nepotism with a second vacation in half a year. They nearly have the place to themselves, apart from the small group of elementary school students on a day trip. </p><p>No exhibit is left unseen. Sokka’s more than happy to trail behind Zuko as he meanders through the building. He should be bored, waiting for his date to study every available plaque like there’s going to be an exam later, yet he’s not remotely so. Watching Zuko soak in the information and history is entertaining in itself, even if Sokka isn’t particularly stimulated by the more academic aspects of the experience.</p><p>“Alright, the shark jaw is pretty cool,” Sokka says eventually, as they cross the threshold into the marine life exhibit. “Way better than the hall of rocks.”</p><p>“Geology, Sokka. And I knew you’d like this one the best.” Zuko throws an excited grin over his shoulder and grabs Sokka’s hand to drag him into the center of the room. Suspended above them, where Zuko points—as if Sokka could miss it—is the entire skeleton of giant fish of some kind.</p><p>“A Sei whale!” Zuko quickly informs him, reading from another plaque. His grip on Sokka’s hand is firm and dry. Sokka disentangles their fingers to slip an arm around his waist, under his unzipped jacket. </p><p>Pale winter light filters into the room and through the ribs of the whale to land in fuzzy slats at their feet. Zuko’s eyes remain glued to the skeleton, glassy with some kind of reverie. Probably contemplating the inescapable passage of time or something equally brooding. He’s utterly captivating in Sokka’s eyes. </p><p>Sokka turns and presses a kiss to the side of Zuko’s neck, nuzzling into it. “Ready for lunch?” he murmurs. </p><p>Back at the same cafe as earlier, lunch consists of sandwiches and Zuko scrolling through each photo from the museum on his phone, as though they hadn’t just seen it all. Sokka indulges while silently thanking the universe for the roast beef swiftly making its way into his belly.  </p><p>“I hardly noticed you taking all these pictures,” Sokka interjects when Zuko pauses to eat. </p><p>“Iroh will like them,” Zuko explains. He ducks his head and swallows another bite before adding in a small voice, “And I wanted to remember today. I’m having a really nice time.”</p><p>Sokka beams, reaching across the table and lifting Zuko’s knuckles to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of them. “Me, too.”</p><p>They spend the rest of the meal in comfortable silence. Zuko sneaks unsubtle glances every few seconds that spark a heat, desire pooling at the base of Sokka’s spine and low in his gut. He clenches his thighs and resists the urge to insist they go home right the fuck now, instead acquiescing when Zuko suggests they walk to the gallery.</p><p>The bitter wind lengthens an otherwise pleasant walk, and they make a slight detour when Zuko spots a used bookstore. Sokka lets him wander the shelfs alone, browsing near the windows while he waits for his hands to thaw. </p><p>Finally, reusable bookbag in tow, they make it to the gallery. Zuko approaches it much like the museum, which is to say slowly and with razor sharp focus. It’s also nearly as deserted as the museum, without even preteens running around on the pretense of an educational outing. Sokka stays close to Zuko’s side to occasionally squeeze his hip or brush a hand down his back. Zuko leans into every touch. Sokka feels almost embarrassingly giddy.</p><p>They’re nearing the end of the gallery’s main floor when they turn the corner into the next exhibit only to be stopped by a large sign in the doorway proclaiming <em> Temporarily closed for restoration </em> and <em> Off-limits to the public </em> in bold lettering. </p><p>Zuko sighs, disappointment evident. “That’s too bad. This is one of the most popular permanent exhibits,” he says, unfolding the pamphlet with the gallery’s map and information. </p><p>“Well, it does say it’s temporary. Maybe we can come back later this week,” Sokka suggests.</p><p>“Unfortunately, we’re not reopening this exhibit for at least another month,” a lilting voice says from behind them. Sokka and Zuko turn at the same time to see a young woman in the gallery’s navy uniform striding down the hall to meet them. “You’re welcome to come back then,” she offers. Her name tag reads Song.</p><p>She’s likely a university student working part-time. Sokka tries on his usual charming smile and tells her, “Damn. See, we’re just in town for the week, and we were really excited about seeing Miss Louise's work.”</p><p>“<em>Lewis</em>, Sokka,” Zuko hisses, side-eying him as though to say <em> put your bullshit back in the bottle </em> and <em> if you embarrass me, I’m taking the keys and you can walk</em>. Sokka is undeterred. </p><p>Song’s eyes flick between them and a knowing smile lands on her face. “Ten minutes,” she says.</p><p>Zuko’s brow furrows. “What?” he says, the epitome of elegance. </p><p>“The workers aren’t in until later today. I’ll give you guys ten minutes inside, as long as you promise not to touch anything.” She rushes to add, “And don’t tell my boss.”</p><p>“We solemnly swear to behave,” Sokka says, the words barely leaving his mouth before Zuko’s effusively thanking her and squeezing between the sign and the doorway to get into the room. Song laughs, a kind tinkle that lightens the air. </p><p>“I owe you one,” Sokka says. She rolls her eyes and waves him off with a wide smile, and he grins back before following Zuko.</p><p>A small structure sits at the back of the room, clearly the object due for restoration. Tools and other supplies are stacked neatly around the workspace, and the paintings closest to the back are covered by protective sheets. Zuko’s already standing in front of the structure—which Sokka can make out now as a tiny, squat house, covered in lively paintings that appear to have been done in the hand of a child—with his back to the rest of the room and hands in his pockets. </p><p>Sokka joins him, brushing their shoulders together as they take in the exhibit. It's cheerful and bright, with a contentedness that pours from every shingle and brush stroke despite the small size of the house and the barebones amenities. After a few minutes he says, “It looks like a happy life.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Zuko murmurs. “It does.”</p><p>Sokka gasps slightly, surprised as Zuko turns and suddenly advances, walking them both back until Sokka’s pushed against the wall next to a colourful landscape painting and being kissed within an inch of his sanity. The long line of Zuko’s body is warm against Sokka’s own, softened by the thick layer of the jackets between them as Sokka wraps his arms around his shoulders. He tilts his head back to bare his throat. Zuko accepts the invitation, kissing a messy trail down to his collar and back up again, behind his ear. He nips Sokka’s earlobe before pulling back, eyes blown wide and cheeks flush. The click of Sokka’s swallow is loud in the still room as he tries to coax his brain back to functioning. </p><p>“This isn’t what I meant when I said we’d behave ourselves,” he chides.</p><p>“Sure. As if you weren’t thinking about it.”</p><p>Sokka’s been thinking about it all damn day, but hearing his thoughts reflected in Zuko’s raspy whisper is too much. He rotates his hips away from where they’re pressed into Zuko’s. “Where are we headed next?” he asks in place of a proper response. “Second floor?”</p><p>Zuko leans in and nibbles along Sokka’s throat again for a moment. Sokka closes his eyes, suddenly far too warm in his coat. His gut tightens when Zuko says, “Your place.”</p><p>“Guys? Ten minutes are up!” Song calls from the doorway. Zuko steps back with a small smirk.</p><p>Sokka exhales hard. “My place.”</p><hr/><p>The bag of books gets tossed unceremoniously to the floor as Sokka wrenches Zuko’s coat off his shoulders, kicking the door shut behind himself. The dull thud of them landing on the hardwood earns a scowl from Zuko, which Sokka ignores in favour of steering him back towards the bedroom. “I’ll deal with the books later,” he promises. </p><p>Zuko now, books later. Always a better plan, especially when Sokka’s been half-hard for the past twenty minutes. He’d struggled to concentrate on the road because once the veneer of propriety had been cast off, Zuko wouldn’t stop <em> touching </em>him. Long, lean fingers teasing at the seam along the inner thigh of his jeans hadn’t exactly made cautious driving a priority. He’d white-knuckled it at ten-and-two the entire way out of the city.</p><p>On second thought, does Sokka want to have sex with a tease who doesn’t care about their road safety?</p><p>They make it to the room. Zuko hits the bed, flopping back hard and pulling Sokka down with him, mouth latched to the soft spot below the hinge of his jaw. Yeah, Sokka absolutely wants that. Screw road safety.</p><p>Sokka groans and separates them enough to lean down and pull off his own boots, then Zuko’s. Both pairs get tossed somewhere behind them. Sokka just has enough time to peel his own jacket off, grimacing at the slight slick of sweat he feels pooling on his lower back, before Zuko’s hand curls around the back of his neck to pull him back into a kiss. </p><p>Sokka melts into the cool touch of Zuko’s hands on his overwarm skin as they frame his jaw, firmly locking him in place. He’s well past half hard and nearly feverish with want, yet can’t help feel that this would be enough. Zuko, with him, filling the empty corners of his seaside eggshell blue house. Zuko open and content and secure like he’s been all day, so vastly different from a few short months ago. That Zuko had been cracked, nearly caving in on himself under the weight of uncertainty. Beautiful, because he’s always beautiful, but sad. Directionless. This Zuko, the one who has been drawing himself back together over the past weeks, is radiant despite the hairline fractures. The more he learns, the more Sokka admires the hell out of his resilience. </p><p>He wonders if it’s too early to say he’s in love. </p><p>Zuko makes a pleased sigh against his mouth and licks gently at the seam of Sokka’s lips. He parts them, groaning at the hot slide of their tongues together. Sokka presses harder into the kiss, following it with his chest until Zuko is lying back on the bed. Sokka slots himself between his thighs and braces his arms on either side of Zuko’s head. He braces himself up enough to look down into his face.</p><p>“Where did you come from?” he asks.</p><p>Zuko’s face flushes. “You asked me that last time.”</p><p>“Still not sure I know the answer,” Sokka murmurs. He threads his fingers into the loose, fine hairs that have escaped from Zuko’s hair tie. Zuko’s eyes flutter closed when Sokka scrapes blunt fingernails against his scalp, and he makes a satisfied little hum in his throat that sounds suspiciously like a purr. Sokka chuckles and carries on his petting for a few minutes, long enough for the tide of his own arousal to ebb. Zuko’s hands trace a path across the back of Sokka’s shoulders, down to his hips and back up. It’s soothing, so much so that Sokka lets his own eyes fall closed with a sigh. </p><p>He starts slightly when Zuko’s hands grip the globes of his ass, hard, and pull his hips down to grind against the body beneath him. He grins at Zuko beneath him, one eye cracked as he smirks and rolls his hips up. Sokka’s not one to ignore that kind of request. He gathers Zuko’s hair more firmly and gently tugs back until the pale column of his throat is on display. He promptly sets to work sucking and nibbling his way across his jaw and down to his collarbone. </p><p>“Feels good,” Zuko mumbles. His hips rock up again, generating just enough friction to bring Sokka’s simmering desire back to a rolling boil. </p><p>“Too many clothes,” Sokka complains, sealing their lips together again as he and Zuko wrestle with their respective shirts. They part enough to toss the offending garments away. Sokka’s back on him in a second, urging Zuko father onto the bed with a palm to the center of his chest. Zuko scrambles backwards to settle himself against the headboard.</p><p>Sokka crawls over to him and climbs into his lap. Zuko smiles and slides a palm across Sokka’s chest, fingers tracing the edges of a tattoo before coming to cup his jaw. A thumb tugs on Sokka’s bottom lip and he doesn’t hesitate to suck it into his mouth. He hums around it, appreciating the slightly awed expression on Zuko’s face as he sets to work on getting his pants off. </p><p>Easier said than done, unless Sokka gets off Zuko to do it, which he is entirely unwilling to do. Zuko pulls his thumb away from Sokka’s mouth and bats at his hands. “Let me do it,” he says, amusement clear in his voice. “You get your own.”</p><p>“Fine,” Sokka grumbles. <em> Fuck, </em> he’s ridiculously warm. He grudgingly shimmies back off Zuko’s thighs, gracelessly yanking his own pants and boxers off in a single tangled mess. He waits impatiently for Zuko to do the same. His mouth goes dry at the expanse of toned, pale skin that gets slowly—too slowly—revealed.</p><p>“God, you’re gorgeous, baby. You have no idea,” he breathes. </p><p>“Speak for yourself,” Zuko replies, reaching out to tug Sokka forward for a kiss. Sokka lingers for just a moment before leaning down, heading straight for his lower belly. They have time, he reminds himself. He’ll savour later, worship Zuko until he’s near sobbing with pleasure and feeling. </p><p>For now, he noses the crease of Zuko’s hip and inhales the scent there. It’s heady, warm and woodsy. Sokka grins at the sharp intake of breath above him as he presses his thumbs into pressure points on Zuko’s hips and starts to suck messy, wet marks into his inner thighs. </p><p>Sokka ignores Zuko’s cock for as long as he thinks either of them can take it, licking and kissing around the base of it until it’s resting heavy against his stomach. Finally, Sokka relents and swallows him to the base in one motion, moaning around him. </p><p>“Fuck <em> me</em>,” Zuko groans. His back arches and he presses up into Sokka’s mouth. Sokka hums and pulls back, hollowing his cheeks. Zuko whimpers, bringing his hands up to cup the back of Sokka’s head and tease gently through the short hairs there. </p><p>Sokka pulls off with an obscene sound. “Maybe later,” he says. He presses a kiss to the tip of Zuko’s cock before sinking back down. He sets a fast pace, bobbing and sucking to the time of Zuko’s wrecked, gasping inhales. </p><p>He slows when his jaw starts to ache, pulling off again to glance up at Zuko. His eyes are heavy slits, gold nearly consumed by his pupils as he watches Sokka. “Feeling good, babe?” Sokka asks.</p><p>Zuko doesn’t answer. He sucks in an abrupt breath, chest heaving as he trails one fingertip gently through the shine of spit on Sokka’s swollen lips. Sokka grins, darts his tongue out to lick the tip. Zuko smiles back and brushes his knuckles across Sokka’s jaw. </p><p>“Feeling good,” Zuko whispers, finally. “Feeling incredible. I forgot—I just—fuck.” There’s a pause, hesitation worming back into Zuko’s demeanor. His eyes flicker away to land somewhere on the bedspread. That won’t do. This whole confidence thing has been a real turn on for Sokka, and he wants to keep that train rollin’. </p><p>Sokka shifts forward to straddle Zuko’s hips again. “Hey, babe. Zuko. Look at me.” </p><p>Obediently, Zuko’s eyes meet Sokka’s for an instant before he glances away again. His ears are nearly as pink as his chest, and he’s so vulnerable that Sokka wants to wrap him up and keep him. Forever, possibly.</p><p>God, he wants. And isn’t that just the truth of it? Sokka’s wanted Zuko from the instant he saw him, seasickness and all. It’s only grown since he’s gotten to truly know him. Sokka’s not so naïve to think he’s been let in fully. Zuko carries way too much for any one person, a veritable shit ton of baggage that Sokka knows he’s only scratched the surface of. The door has been left open a crack, though, and that’s what matters. Zuko leaves that door open for him. He just needs to be patient. </p><p> “I’m happy you’re here,” Sokka says. “I want you here. I missed you, so goddamn much. It’s sad, really. We talk almost every day and I miss you. When you’re here, I don’t have to.”</p><p>Zuko stares, preternaturally still beneath Sokka. His hands grip the comforter, clawing into the worn blue fabric. Sokka has never wished he could read minds (it’s gotta be more of a curse than a gift, right?) but damn, would it be helpful right now. </p><p>He waits it out. Patience. They have time. One hundred and forty-five hours. </p><p>“I missed you, too,” Zuko rasps. His voice is raw and honest, so much so that Sokka is momentarily dumbfounded by the unlikelihood that <em> this </em>is his life. The actual life that he is living, right now. He parts his lips to speak and fails, only managing to stare at Zuko with utter elation bubbling in his chest. His throat feels tight. </p><p>Sokka swallows back his emotion for later and finds a wobbly smile. “Glad we’re on the same page. Try to relax. Let me make you feel good,” he says. They reach for each other at the same time, Sokka’s hands skimming low across Zuko’s hips as his brush over the crown of Sokka’s head. </p><p>“You always do,” Zuko says. “Your turn, now.”</p><p>Without warning Zuko fists the base of Sokka’s tied-back hair and pulls. It’s just on the right side of too rough, and Sokka’s dick twitches with interest against his thigh. He follows the pull with a sharp gasp, readily crashing his mouth to Zuko’s. Hands leave his hair and land firmly on his waist to guide him to exactly where Zuko wants him. The hot line of Zuko’s erection slides against his ass, and Sokka moans his approval. </p><p>“Good?” Zuko checks, breaking their kiss to mouth down the side of Sokka’s neck. </p><p>“<em>Amazing. </em> Just let me—” Sokka leans over to his nightside table, scrabbling to get the drawer open and supplies from inside. He tosses the near-full bottle of lube and a condom onto the bed. Zuko snatches the former and snaps the lid open, drizzles some onto his fingers before tossing it away again. He slides the other hand to press down firmly between Sokka’s shoulder blades. Sokka relents to the pressure, tucking his chin over Zuko’s shoulder so their upper chests are flush. </p><p>Sokka's breath hitches loudly as Zuko spreads his thighs wider, opening Sokka’s along with him. He’s more exposed this way, and while he’s not shy in bed or out of it, he’s feeling oddly undone at the sensation. He wills away the tension that threatens to rise in his body, lets himself be heavy as he sags into Zuko. Zuko mouths at the skin behind his ear. “Still okay?” he asks.</p><p>“Still great, sweetheart. Keep going. Wanna feel you.”</p><p>Sokka groans and bites gently into the meat of Zuko’s shoulder as a slippery finger presses against his entrance without preamble. Zuko’s breathing goes ragged as he slides in. He’s so easily overwhelmed, his need threatening to take Sokka over the edge with him. </p><p>An absolutely filthy groan comes from Zuko as Sokka rocks his hips down onto his hand, encouraging more. Sokka explores the curve of Zuko’s neck with the warmth of his mouth, tasting the light brine of his skin, the saltiness that settles on everything after enough time on the coast. It makes Zuko a part of this place. Makes him <em> belong</em>. Sokka sighs as Zuko slides another finger into him, savouring the mild stretch-burn of it. Zuko turns his head, drags his lips roughly across Sokka’s jaw until their mouths meet in a kiss that’s more teeth than tender.</p><p>Zuko’s eyes are closed when Sokka pulls back to look at his face. There’s a furrow between his brows like he’s concentrating hard. It’s not unlike the look he’s worn for most of the day, absorbing everything he could from each exhibit, every painting. Sokka presses his lips to it to smooth it. Zuko pants a breathy chuckle against him. The ghost of his breath is warm and sweet, and Sokka smiles as it caresses his cheek.</p><p>“Relax, babe,” Sokka murmurs. “You’re doing so good for me. Always so good.”</p><p>“Tell me what you want,” Zuko says.</p><p>“You,” Sokka says, instantly. Zuko huffs a disbelieving laugh and Sokka elaborates, “Just like this. Inside me. Touching me, because it always feels good when you touch me. And I wanna touch you. Been wanting to all day. Since the second you showed up. Would you like that, baby?”</p><p>Zuko’s hand stutters a bit in its current task, and a thin whine escapes from him as he tips his head back to rest against the headboard. “Oh my god.”</p><p>Sokka smirks at the pink flush creeping up Zuko’s throat, the desperate little breaths that he can’t control. “Was that a yes?”</p><p>“Yes, fucking yes. Of course. You’re incredible.” Zuko withdraws his hand abruptly, ignores the small sound of protest that slips from Sokka, and cracks his eyes open to bat around the bedspread for the condom and lube.</p><p>Sokka laughs at the pout on Zuko’s face when he realizes he can’t reach, then laughs again when Zuko glares at him. “Don’t be mean,” Zuko says.</p><p>Sokka takes pity and grabs the stuff. “Okay, okay, being nice now.” He slides back to roll a condom and slick up Zuko’s cock, giving a few firm strokes as he does so. Zuko’s eyes slam shut again, fingers tightening on Sokka’s biceps where he holds him, trying to pull him back up. Sokka goes, his own impatience burning in his gut. He’s past wanting and hurtling into need, and he <em> needs </em>to feel him, to be closer than he is right now. He needs a lot of things he’s not sure he’s going to get, but this, at least, is on offer. And Sokka’s fucking grateful for it. </p><p>Zuko meets his gaze as Sokka shuffles back into his lap and braces himself with an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. He reaches back to line them up and sits himself on Zuko’s cock, slowly, watching the wide-eyed vulnerability as it dawns on Zuko’s face. He looks like he can’t believe this is real. Sokka wants to keep him here until that look of surprise no longer shows up every time something good happens. </p><p>“That’s it, baby,” Sokka says, breathing deep through the stretch. “You feel amazing.”</p><p>Zuko’s frozen, still except for the heaving of his chest and the flexing of his fingers as they dig into the meat of Sokka’s hips as though he’s unsure whether he can ask for more. Sokka takes a moment to adjust when his ass meets Zuko’s thighs, just breathes the shared air between them, and <em> looks</em>. Zuko looks right back. </p><p>“You’re so fucking beautiful. Shit, I don’t know where they made you,” Sokka says.</p><p>Zuko breaks. His lips part on a tiny, appreciative moan and he curls forward to band his arms around Sokka before tipping them both back to rest against the headboard. Sokka tucks Zuko’s chin into his neck and pants as Zuko’s hips start a slow roll.</p><p>“Fuck, yeah. Just like that. However you want, sweetheart, I’m all yours. You won’t break me,” Sokka says. He keeps up a litany of praise into Zuko’s hair, soaking up the pleased sounds he makes in return and the sweet drag of their bodies together. Chest to chest, Sokka feels Zuko’s heart thundering out of time with his own. The heat of the room trapped between them makes for a slickness where their skin meets. Warmth spreads across Sokka’s skin from every point of contact, a pressure growing behind his ribs that draws him forward, body heavy and loose with pleasure. He trusts Zuko to take his weight, trusts that the arms around him will keep him together while his mind resonates with a cacophony of feeling. He’s syrupy loose and thought seems like an intangible concept at the moment, but Sokka feels. Feels the slide of his body with Zuko’s, and feels the ruthless truth that he’s not going to recover from this. One way or another, the Sokka post-Zuko is not the Sokka pre-Zuko.</p><p>Zuko brings his knees up and fucks into Sokka harder. Sparks skitter up Sokka’s spine when the change in angle means every thrust hits that sweet spot, and he grips tighter where he clings to Zuko’s shoulders. Within a few minutes, Zuko’s movements become shallow and erratic. </p><p>“I’m—Sokka, please, can I—” he starts. </p><p>“I know, baby, I got you,” Sokka murmurs. “Be good and come for me.”</p><p>Zuko does, immediately. That reaction is one Sokka intends to explore later, but for now he lets out a sympathetic groan as Zuko spills into him with a choked cry. Sokka rocks his hips to work him through the aftershocks, reaching between them to grab his own neglected dick. He’s right on the precipice, between the stretch of Zuko still inside him and the drag of his cock against their bellies. A few strokes and he falls over it, crashes into the sea, is swept out on an easy current.</p><p>He comes to his senses just long enough to lift his hips to let Zuko slide out. Then he goes slack under the hands trailing through the perspiration up and down his back and slumps forward again. They come down together, the mingled sounds of their breathing harsh in the otherwise silent room as Sokka waits for his heart rate to approach normal.</p><p>“Holy shit,” he says, eventually. </p><p>“Mm. I concur.”</p><p>“Be right back,” Sokka says. He stands on weak-kneed legs and gets towels from the bathroom. When he returns, Zuko’s kicked all the covers to the end of the bed, half of them hanging on the floor. He looks slightly guilty as Sokka walks in.</p><p>“I want a nap, but it’s way too hot in here,” he explains. His cheeks are tinged with pink and he’s altogether too adorable for Sokka to handle. </p><p>“God, yeah, I know. I was melting,” Sokka laughs. He tosses a handcloth to Zuko and uses the other to wipe himself off. He crawls back into bed when Zuko’s finished and arranges them so they’re facing one another. It’s too warm to cuddle, but Sokka drapes an arm over Zuko’s waist and presses a kiss to his lips.</p><p>He sighs as he pulls back and nestles into the pillow, eyes closed, already entering the heavy-limbed foyer of sleep. He grins as a finger traces the contour of his jaw and brushes a strand of hair from his forehead.</p><p>“We have to talk.”</p><p>Sokka startles at the sound of Zuko’s voice but doesn’t open his eyes. He drags himself away from the lull of unconsciousness enough to ask, “Right now, babe? ‘Cause that nap was sounding like a fucking great idea.”</p><p>No answer. Sokka peels his eyes open to see naked anxiety on Zuko’s face. The corners of his mouth are downturned in a grimace. Shit. Sokka’s heart ratchets up again, thumping hard against his ribs. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Zuko’s fingers play across the inches of bedsheet between them. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at Sokka until he reaches across to clasp Zuko’s hand, stills his pale fingers by holding them with his own. “Zuko, you’re freaking me out a bit, sweetheart. Talk to me. I’m listening.”</p><p>Zuko drags in a shaky breath. “I wasn’t going to bring this up yet.”</p><p>Sokka’s mind snags on the <em> yet</em>. “But?” he prods gently.</p><p>“I, um. I don’t want to put pressure on this. Us. Whatever we are.”</p><p>“We’re whatever we want to be. Boyfriend sounds pretty good to me, if you want.” Sokka smiles, encouraging, as Zuko’s golden eyes flicker up to his. </p><p>Zuko nods, silent, dark hair cascading around his neck. Fine strands curl in the lingering sweat on his skin. He looks so desperate that Sokka’s chest clenches. “I want that,” he whispers.</p><p>“Me, too. So tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”</p><p>“I lied when I said I got lost on my way here.”</p><p>Sokka frowns, confused. He’s not sure where this is going, and not sure yet if he should be upset by that admission. “Seems like a weird thing to lie about,” he says carefully.</p><p>“I know, and I’m sorry,” Zuko says in a rush. The words are soft, growing as he speaks, like he needs to get them out before he’s interrupted. “I stopped in the city before coming here. There’s a property for sale, near the university. Uncle wanted me to take a look at it, so I made an appointment with the realtor to see it. Uncle thinks that there’s a good opportunity to expand, open another shop, since there’s no other cafes or coffee shops that close to the campus, so the location is ideal for student foot traffic, and it would be a chance for me to run the shop, and it was a really nice space, and it could actually—”</p><p>“Zuko,” Sokka interrupts gently, squeezing his fingers. “Sweetheart, are you trying to tell me you’re thinking of moving out here? For work?”</p><p>Another nod. “But I don’t want you to think that there are, like, <em> expectations</em>,” he says quickly. “That <em> I </em> have expectations.”</p><p>Sokka has to bite back a laugh, because it’s so ridiculously endearing, but Zuko looks so genuinely worried that he knows a wrong move here will send him into hiding. “Oh, baby. I know that. You’re only thinking about it right now, right? Nothing’s for sure yet?” A nod. “Right. And I know that you care about your job, and your uncle, and that <em> if </em> you did move out here, it would be because it’s the best thing for <em> you</em>.”</p><p>Zuko sighs, a shaky little exhale into the mattress. “Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”</p><p>“Is that something you think you might want to do?”</p><p>“I really like it here.” A pause. “A lot. And I want to show Uncle I can do this. He won’t move—says he’s getting too old, which is bullshit, but whatever—and I’m nervous but...excited?”</p><p>He says the last part like a question, like he’s surprised at his own sentiment, and Sokka finally does laugh. Zuko’s pinched brow relaxes and he gives a tentative smile in return. “It’s very exciting,” Sokka agrees. “And babe, if you did have expectations? I definitely would not be complaining. I’d love to see more of you. As much of you as possible, in fact.” Sokka pinches his ass and Zuko swats his hand away. But he’s smiling for real now, so it’s progress.</p><p>“Okay?” Sokka asks, growing serious. “You can talk to me about anything, or nothing, whenever. I’m so glad you told me this. I know it’s not easy for you to share like that.”</p><p>“Okay,” Zuko confirms. His voice is small and ruined by relief. “Thank you.”</p><p>Sokka shifts closer so their foreheads touch and he can get his arm more firmly around Zuko, who’s pliant and soft now that his big confession is out of the way. “Anytime,” he murmurs. “I want to hear more about your ideas for the potential new shop later, over dinner.”</p><p>“You will, I promise. I took pictures.”</p><p>“Of course you did. But now, sleep?”</p><p>“Please. Sleep.”</p><p>Sokka closes his eyes with a sigh. Zuko’s breathing smooths out before his own, and he smiles at the ease of it all. He’s nearly vibrating with excitement, with hope, at the prospect of Zuko being within an hour’s drive permanently. He tells himself not to get too worked up—shit happens, after all—but that hope follows him into his afternoon dreams. </p><p>One hundred and forty-four hours. And then, maybe, no more counting. </p><p> </p>
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